Why can't I stop laughing? Maybe because I'm remembering that time in a Florida swamp when my dad and I were bass fishing and a 12-foot gator slipped off a bank then swam at us like a fish-fueled torpedo.

When you're in a 12-ft jon boat and the gator is 12 ft long, you worry. (I'm not saying you scream and shout, but ... you might if you're a Yankee used to gators on TV and in zoos rather than on your fishing vacation. Ahem.)

Btw, if you get a second, could you drop me an email at jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com? Somebody I interviewed for a recent story is soon relocating to one of your old stomping grounds, and I was hoping you might be able to help out with intros.